


Prompt Collection

by Fatally_Procrastinating



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Asexual Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3623712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatally_Procrastinating/pseuds/Fatally_Procrastinating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompts from tumblr where my followers gave me two characters and an opening line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cullen/Lavellan: The best part was that he hadn’t known she was watching him. (fluff)

The best part was that he hadn’t known she was watching him. 

Kithia bit her lip as she traced the water splashing against the commander’s shoulders with her eyes before it ran down the length of his chest. She hung back in the shadows, watching Cullen as he washed under the waterfall that ran beneath Skyhold Keep. 

She’d bathed here herself more than one and had thought the location to be a secret one. Not that she minded his presence. She was more than content to watch him brush along his front and down his legs, the water giving his tanned skin a kind of shine. A sigh escaped her when his muscles flexed and rippled with his movements. 

“Do you need a hand?” she asked when struggled to reach his back. 

Cullen cursed and the water sloshed over the sides when he spun around. His cheeks darkened and he bent his knees to hide more of himself. 

She laughed. “I’ve seen it all before, you know. Your desk, your bed,  _my_ bed, that one kitchen counter, that little library downstairs, the—”

“Yes. I remember.” 

Kithia grinned when his blush spread down his neck. “So, ma vhenan, would you like a hand?” 

“I… suppose I might be able to make room.” Cullen smirked as he stepped aside, holding out a hand for her. 

Her laughter echoed off the walls as she stripped down to join him. “I know it’s an inconvenience, Commander,” she said as he helped her into the shallow pool beneath the falls, “But I hope I’m not  _too_  much of a burden.” 

Cullen drew her into his chest, grinning when he kissed her, his words murmured on her lips; “I think I’ll manage.” 


	2. Cullen/Lavellan: She had been gone for two weeks with no word when she’d return. (fluff)

She had been gone for two weeks with no word when she’d return. 

Cullen groaned as his head thunked onto the desk before him. The lack of communication had been driving him mad. Even with Leliana’s fastest crows, it still took near a week to send a letter and receive Kithia’s response. Eight days had passed since her last letter. 

He glared at the stacked missives on his desk, grumbling to himself as he absently poked at the papers. Was she all right? Was she eating enough? Had she stubbed her toe? Cullen ran another hand through his hair, eyes closing as the constant twinge of Lyrium grew louder. 

“ _Open the gates._ ” 

Cullen nearly knocked his desk over in his rush to stand. Bursting through the door, he ran across the battlements, taking the stairs three at a time as a set of horses galloped across the bridge towards the main courtyard. 

“Inquisitor!” He grinned when Kithia leaned up on her Hart and waved at him. Cullen gripped his hands to keep from waving back like a child, allowing himself a nod instead as she grew close. “I’m glad to see you’ve returned safely. When no word came, I… well…” 

“I thought I’d deliver it in person.” Kithia nearly bounced when she landed on her feet. He smiled at the weather-beaten blush on her cheeks, his eyes trailing her vallaslin. “There’s some sensitive information in here, Commander. I think it’s best if we go over the letter together. In private.” 

“I—yes. Of course. That sounds like an excellent idea.” He held out an arm even as his cheeks began to warm. The others were doing a poor job of hiding their smirks. “Shall we, Inquisitor?” 

Kithia placed a hand on the crook of his elbow. His heart skipped when she grinned up at him. “After you, Commander.” 


	3. Cullen/Trevelyan: “You are shaking”, she said.  (comfort)

“You  _are_  shaking,” she said. “Deny it all you want but I can see the blankets trembling.” 

Cullen scowled “I’m fine, Inquisitor.” 

Elysse rolled her eyes as she crossed the small space of his room. He flinched away when the bed shifted under her added weight. “Can’t I help you?” 

“I don’t want to distract you.” His tone was tight and controlled. Her heart ached as sweat gathered on his brow. He must’ve been in such intense pain to act that way. 

"You’re not a distraction, Cullen.” She moved some of the loose strands of hair off his brow and kissed the temple. “Well, maybe a little. But it’s the pleasant kind.” 

Cullen gave a strained laugh. “You have duties, reports, visitors.” 

“All of that can wait.” Elysse eased him down until his head rested in her lap. She massaged his scalp and planted kisses on his nose and cheeks. “Taking care of my Commander is my priority right now.” 

“Mmm.” His eyes began to close, shoulders relaxing down into the bed. “So this isn’t an excuse to hide from the nobles?” 

She grinned, brushing her lips against his own as she murmured, “I didn’t say that.” 


	4. Cullen/Trevelyan: ”I’m sorry for your loss, Inquisitor.” (Fluff)

“I’m sorry for your loss, Inquisitor.” 

“The game isn’t over yet, Cullen!” Elysse rubbed her chin as she glared at the chess board. There had to be a way out. There had to be  _something_ she could do to beat that smug smirk off of his face. 

“I do believe your time is up.” 

“My turn is done when I say it is,” she grumbled, “and not before.” 

“Oh? Is there some special rule that I’m not aware of?” 

“Yes. It’s called  _being the Inquisitor!_ ” 

Cullen chuckled as he leaned back into his chair. He pressed the tips of his steepled fingers to his chin, his smirk growing with each passing second. “It’s too bad, really.” 

“Hmm? What’s that?” 

His eyes swept the abandoned courtyard. “Alone. Birds singing. A beautiful woman in front of me. I’d hoped we might do more than a single chess game but if you’re determined to see this through…” 

“You’re bluffing.” 

“You’ve seen when happens when I try to bluff.” 

Elysse’s fingers hovered over her King as she stared at him. When his tongue ran tongue along his lower lip, she set the piece down in forfeit. His laugh echoed off the stone long after he’d reached across the table and pulled her into a kiss. 


	5. Cullen/Trevelyan: The commander pushed his bed out from under the hole as rain began to drip in through the cracks.  (fluff)

The commander pushed his bed out from under the hole as rain began to drip in through the cracks—Elysse was meant to return that night and he wanted to keep it dry for the pair of them. He stepped back and assessed the position before shifting the bed again. The candles sputtered at a sudden draft and Cullen cursed as he tried to shield them from the breeze. 

“Whoever opened the door,” he started, walking over to the top of the ladder, “I already called off patrols for tonight.” 

“Even for me?” Elysse grinned up at him. Her damp hair was plastered to her forehead and water began to puddle at her feet. 

“I didn’t know you were back.” Cullen scrambled down towards her, jumping the last few rungs. He crushed her to his chest, an arm wrapping around her waist as he kissed her. 

“Tried to… knock,” she managed between breaths. Her fingers in his hair made his spine tingle. “Rain must’ve… been too loud.” 

He chuckled against her lips, hardly daring to let go as he started backing towards the ladder. He finally pulled from the kiss to look at her. “Do you have time?” 

“All night.” 

Cullen grinned as he kissed her again, helping her peel off the wet layers that weighed her down until she was shivering, stripped to her smalls. His lips skimmed along her neck as he tugged his tunic free to drape it over her shoulders. The end of his tunic nearly hit her knees.  

Elysse grabbed his wrist when he started up the ladder. “I’m not waiting that long,” she said, slinging her arms around his shoulders with enough force to topple them both to the floor, laughing. 


	6. Cullen/Mage daughter: He smiled at her and said, “You don’t have to be afraid of your magic, it’s part of you.” (fluff/comfort)

“You don’t have to be afraid of your magic, it’s part of you.” Cullen smiled at his daughter’s tear-stained face before he cupped her small cheeks in his hands. 

“But,” Cassie sniffed as she held the stuffed nug closer to her chest—the wings had been singed clean off. “But I hurt Snuffles.” 

“He can be fixed.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” He picked her up and tucked her against his chest, nearly cradling her like he had when she was a newborn. He kissed her forehead, smiling at the scent of her hair. “We can make him brand new again. Magic isn’t bad or evil or scary. It’s like… your hands.” 

“It is?” 

“Yes. Exactly like your hands. You can build a birdhouse with your hands, you can bandage a wound, hold someone who’s sad, or strike out in anger. How you use your hands in entirely up to you. Just like with magic.” Cullen lean in, rubbing his scruff against her cheek until she giggled. 

“Daddy, stop!” 

He grinned when she pushed his face away. She stared down at her fingers, flexing them with a frown. Cullen took one and kissed the palm. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.” 


	7. Cullen/Lavellan: The whispers from the well of sorrows show her truths that change her for the worst. (angst)

The whispers from the well of sorrows had shown her truths that changed her. Kithia rubbed the vallaslin on her cheeks. The marks had itched since she’d first emerged from the well, but what had started as a dull ache now burned as a fire. 

“Are they still hurting?” 

She blinked and turned to Cullen. She’d forgotten he was there. “… yes.” 

He smiled and reached out to cup her cheek but she retreated from the touch. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t be wasting her time here now that Corypheus was gone. There was so much to do, so much to prepare for. The Inquisition,  _Cullen_ : being here was just a distraction. 

“Kit? What’s wrong?” 

She slipped from their bed, keeping the sheet tight around herself. “I… I need to leave. I need to return to my clan. They don’t know what’s coming.” 

“We can send a messenger first thing.” 

“You don’t get it.” She scoffed. “How could you? You’re just a shem, and a Templar at that. No, not  _even_  that; you backed away from those responsibilities too, didn’t you.” She felt a sick satisfaction at the pain in his face before tore across the room, ripping the drawers from her dresser in her urge to pack. “None of you could ever understand.  _My_ people were once immortal and strong before you shemlens quickened our blood; poisoned us from the inside. But not anymore. It’s all going to come back.  _He’s_ going to bring it all back.” 


	8. Cullen/Lavellan: “Do you trust me?”  (angst... ish)

“Do you trust me?” Cullen asked. He held Kithia’s hands tightly in his own, eyes narrowed and intense on her face. “I won’t do it if you don’t trust me.” 

“I…” 

“Leliana’s scouts are still available. It’s not too late.” 

“No. I think you’re right, I just…” She gripped his hands until her knuckles ached. “No matter what we do, my clan keeps falling further into danger. I’m starting to feel like this is never going to end—like my people are always going to be hunted.” She pressed her forehead to his chest and took a deep breath. “Can’t we just be free?” 

“I’ll lead the charge myself.” Cullen’s arms wrapped around her waist. His lips trailed along her forehead. “I’ll keep them safe, Kit. Your clan has the Inquisition behind it now and I will not see it fall.” 

Kithia’s chin quivered as she buried herself into him. “I can’t lose you either, Cullen.” 

“You won’t.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“I swear it.” Cullen tilted her chin up and gave her a soft kiss. “In Andraste’s name, by the will of the Maker, and by the grace of the Creators, I’m going to come back.” 


	9. Cullen/Lavellan: I didn’t get to say goodbye to her… was closing the rift worth this? (angst)

"I didn’t get to say goodbye to her… was closing the rift worth this?" She clenched her hands and pressed them to her forehead. Her mother… dead. She would’ve been there, _should’ve_ been there with her clan. 

Cullen knelt in front of her, his face was set in hard lines but his eyes held sympathy. “You saved a lot of lives today, Herald. You couldn’t have known what would happen with your family. None of us know what’s coming next, but you did what you thought was right.” He paused before laying a hand on her own. 

“What would you have done?” 

He blinked and fumbled with his words. “I think… that is, I hope I would’ve had the same courage that you’ve shown. I hope I would’ve stayed to close to rift.” 

“Really?” 

He nodded and squeezed her hand. “You wanted to help people, you tried to choose the right thing even knowing the risks. No one could ask for more.” 


	10. Cullen/Lavellan: It’s not everyday one gets to spar a great-sword wielding elf: none the less when said elf leads the Inquisition. (angst/comfort/general)

"It’s not everyday one gets to spar a great-sword wielding elf: none the less when said elf leads the Inquisition.” 

“You’ve got a pretty tongue, shem. I wonder if your skill with a blade can match your flattering words.” 

Cullen smirked and the gathering crowd around them cheered and booed their mood at the dancing pair. “I’d be more than happy to show you my skills. But perhaps you should come a little closer first.” 

“Don’t you know, shem?” She tutted softly. “The human  _always_ makes the first move in a fight.” She grinned at the twitch of annoyance that crossed his face. It wouldn’t break him. He was too heavily trained to be impatient, but wearing him down a little couldn’t hurt. “Well? Don’t you have the pride of the Inquisition to defend?” 

Cullen’s jaw clenched as he raised his shield. 

“ _Damned knife-ear_.” 

She turned on the crowd, searching through the strange faces for the accuser. 

“Who said that?!” It was Cullen who charged forward, anger blazing in his eyes. When no one confessed, Cullen sheathed his sword and paced around the ring. “This woman is Andraste’s Herald; the only one who has a chance to seal the rifts. She did not ask for this burden, but she has taken it all the same. You will show herrespect.  _Dismissed!_ ” 

Her ears were burning when he turned to face her again. He had a blush of his own when he stuttered. “I apologize for their behavior, Herald. I assure you that it won’t—”

“It’s fine,” she muttered, putting her own weapon away. “You win this time… Commander.” 


	11. Cullen/Trevelyan: “Who do you think you are?” (angst/comfort)

“Who do you think you are?” Cullen paced along the floor of his office, hands clenching and relaxing and clenching again. “You don’t know what it’s like! How could you? Lady Trevelyan from her noble family. Did you even experience pain before you ended up at the Conclave?” 

Elysse took a deep breath, fighting back the anger and heartache from his shouted words. “You’re right, Cullen. I don’t know what you’re going through. I’ll probably never understand it—not fully.” She kept her voice even when he rounded on her, backing her up to the wall. “But I have had my fair share of pain: you  _know_ I have. It’s a lot easier to bear it when you share it with another.” 

“I…” The lines of anger in his face relaxed with a sigh. “Forgive me,” he murmured, half-slumping away. “Please forgive me, Elysse. The lyrium it…” He pressed a hand to his head and groaned. “It’s stronger than I am.” 

“No, it’s not.” She took his hand and pulled him back. She peppered kisses along his face, her fingers going to the back of his neck where he always carried his stress. His head dropped to her shoulder with a groan. She kissed his ear, neck, cheek, whatever she could reach. “The lyrium was never stronger than you, Cullen.” 


	12. Cullen/Trevelyan: “I’m a virgin!” (NSFW)

“I’m a virgin!” Elysse clamped down on her lips, eyes widening at the shock of her own confession. She swallowed hard and stared down at Cullen who had been trailing kisses along her inner thigh not half a minute before. 

“…oh.” 

“I, uh,” she stuttered, cheeks burning with every passing second. She should’ve kept her mouth shut and enjoyed the scrape of his stubble on her skin, his soft lips, the hot caress of his tongue. Oh, Maker, just thinking about it made her skin burn. “Not that I don’t want you to, u-um, that is…” 

What if she was bad at it? What if he didn’t like it with her? What if  _she_ didn’t like it? 

“Do you want me to stop?” Cullen asked with a smile. He shifted up, placing his hands on the bed behind her so he was close but no longer intimately so. “We don’t have to go any further that this.” 

“No, I  _want_ to, I just…” She bit her lip, feeling like a child under his patient gaze. She ran her hands along his arms, wanting to distract herself for a moment. “I’ve had  _personal_ experience with this, but never anything… shared.” 

He chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss along her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut when he nipped at the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “We can start with something you’re more familiar with, if you’d like.” 

“What do you— _oh_.” Elysse gasped when his hand traced along the edge of her smalls. 

“You’ll simply use my fingers in place of yours.” As though to demonstrate, he hooked a finger inside the cloth. “Yes or no?”

“ _Yes_.” 

His laughter vibrated against her neck before he shifted up to claim in her a hot kiss. She gasped against his his lips when his fingers searched along her sex. 

“There,” she hissed when he brushed along her clit. The roughness of his hand heightened the sensation as he made small circles around the sensitive nub. “Oh, Maker.” She whimpered against his touch, pulling him in tighter. One hand clenched at his back as the other ran through his hair. “Right there,  _yes!_ ” 

Cullen smirked against her lips. He moaned her name, murmuring how good she felt even as his tongue rubbed against her own. Her heart pounded. Blood rushed through her ears as heat pooled in her belly. Her hips moved in time with his fingers and he pressed harder. 

“Does it feel good?” he all but purred in her ear. 

“Yes,” she gasped when he nipped the lobe. She pressed her face into his neck, taking in his scent as she bit the nape of his neck; her smirk of victory at his groan broke when he pressed a finger inside, using his palm to grind against her clit. 

“Harder, Cullen. Please.  _Please._ ” Maker, but she was close. The heat was coiling, building, waiting to burst.

He did as she asked, his kiss hard and demanding. He soaked up her moans as she came. Her legs trembled under the sharp release and her fingers dug into his skin, bringing him flush against her hot body. Cullen murmured her name, continuing to tease and tantalize at a slower pace until she’d regained control of her breath. 

“I…” Elysse swallowed hard as she stared at him. ‘Thank you’ seemed awkward and inadequate. “Wow.” 

Cullen laughed, withdrawing his hand only to massage her hips. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

She bit her lip through her smile, her earlier shyness returning. His every touch sent shivers along her spine and made her ache for him to touch her like that again. “I, um…” She flushed, reaching for the laces on his breeches. 

“Later,” he said, catching her hands. He brought them up and kissed her knuckles. “When you’re more comfortable.” 


	13. Cullen/Mage!Warden: She was his charge and a mage, it was his duty to protect her. (fluff with touch of angst)

She was his charge and a mage, it was his duty to protect her. To protect her and nothing more. 

Cullen let his eyes drift up from the floor when she passed, peeking out through his lashes as she walked through the main hall. When she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Her lips were full and rich in color and when she licked them, he had to chant in his head,  _Nothing more._

 _Nothing more,_  when she laughed and smiled and stared at him throughout breakfast with eyes he wanted to sink into. 

 _Nothing more_ , when her hand brushed his in the library as he helped her reach a book. The touch made his skin tingle for hours. 

 _Nothing more_ , when her robe slipped and he set it back in place, fingertips barely skimming along her neck. Her eyes darkened when she smiled. 

 _Nothing more_ , when she pulled him inside an alcove, her breath warm and sweet on his lips. When she kissed him and murmured his name like a prayer. When she pressed her body close, fingers on the back of his neck, her sighs as soft as her lips. When she moaned at the touch of his tongue and clung to him as though he were the Maker himself. 

Just this once but nothing more. 


	14. Cullen/Amell: She knew he liked her, but she also knew he would never do anything about it. (fluff with touch of angst)

She knew he liked her, but she also knew he would never do anything about it. Her fingers tightened around her staff—one of the few things in this world that was actually her own—and drew in a deep breath. It didn’t matter now. The Grey Warden was waiting. 

Her sack was small and light as she slung it over her shoulder, several trinkets rattling inside, as she walked out into the hall. The other mages glanced her direction and whispered behind cupped hands. Fastest Harrowing ever seen. Lucky. Cheater. Do you think she slept with that Templar so that he’d help? 

Her jaw tightened when she set off at a march. She turned the corner into the main hall. Hands grabbed her shoulders. 

“Cullen!” She stuttered and blushed, retreating from the chestplate she’d nearly walked into. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” 

“It’s all right.” He gave her a boyish smile, a blush disappearing up into his curls. “I’m glad I got to see you again, before you left.” 

“Me too.” She glanced around to ensure the room was clear before pressing him back into an alcove. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m leaving, Cullen, to join the Grey Wardens. I’m not in your charge anymore. You don’t have to…” Her gaze fell down to his lips. “That is,  _we_  don’t have to…” 

“We can’t.” 

“Why not? Why can’t we have just one moment together? Please, Cullen, kiss me just this once before I go.” 

He turned back to the main hall, his hands tightening at his side before he was suddenly pressing her back against the wall, angling himself to block her from any wondering view. He cupped her face, his own cheeks burning as he leaned down to kiss her. It started as a mere brush of the lips but he deepened the connection quickly, her name a sigh as his tongue slipped into her mouth. 

Her toes curled and her stomach clenched pleasantly. She held him close, fingers running through his curls while she kissed back with everything she had. His lips molded and tease, his taste intoxicating as he kissed her for what felt like hours. His teeth caught her lower lip before he pulled away, breathless and crimson. She saw the desire to kiss her again in his eyes. He licked his own lips instead and took a step back. 

He inclined his head, his usual modesty returning as he said, “Andraste watch over you and keep you safe; may we never need to meet again.” 


	15. Cullen/Cassandra: “He’s a blighted idiot is what he is.”

_He’s a blighted idiot is what he is_  

Cassandra marched through the lines of soldiers to where Cullen swayed under the force of his fever. “Forgive me, Commander,” she said before snatching the man’s ear. 

“Cassandr-ow!” 

She tightened her grip, twisting the ear slightly for good measure until the man lost his protest in a wince. She set off for the infirmary at a march. “Trying to train the recruits when you’re ill; what were you thinking?” 

“It wasn’t as though I were pushing myse-aah! Stop doing that!” 

“ _I_ will stop doing it when  _you_  stop insisting on pushing yourself so hard.” Cassandra tugged him by the ear all the way up the stairs and into the keep, stopping only when she’d pressed the Commander into one of the empty beds. “You are to rest here until I say otherwise.” 

“You don’t have the rank to order me.” 

“I do now. Consider yourself relieved.” 

“You can’t—”

“No talking. More sleeping.” Cassandra sat down at his side, arms crossing. “And to make sure you obey the order, I am going to stay here until you are well again.” 


	16. Alistair/F!Surana: “You don’t have to be so strong all of the time.” (fluff/comfort)

“You don’t have to be so strong all of the time.” 

She turned away when Alistair reached for her. 

“Please look at me.” 

“I…” She bit her lip and let him tilt her chin to face him. Her cheeks burned under his words and she kept her gaze stubbornly away from his eyes. “I’m fine, Alistair. Really.” 

“No, you’re not.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let her head rest against his chest. She shivered when the tip of her ear pressed against the warm skin of his neck. “It’s all right to be a little weak sometimes.” 

Warm hands rubbed her back and she found herself relaxing in his hold. “I don’t… I’ve never fit in anywhere. At the Circle, I was just an elf. Outside the Circle, I’m just a mage. No matter where I go, I’m pushed to the side. I’m tired of it!”

“Is that all you think you are?” Alistair’s arms squeezed around her. His breath tickled her neck and she blushed all the way to her ears. “You’re a Grey Warden now. One of the only Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden. You carry a position of great honor; an honor you’re more than worthy of. Anyone who looks down on you should be ashamed, not the other way around.” 

She looked up when he cleared his throat. His face was a deep red and when their eyes met, she detected the tremble in his hands. He’d never been so close before. 

“You’re strong,” he murmured, “and smart, and capable, and… Maker’s breath, you’re beautiful.” His arms suddenly fell and he turned away with a crimson face. “O-oh, look at the time! Is it that late already? W-well—good night! Um…” Alistair pecked her cheek before dashing across the camp towards his tent. 


	17. Alistair/Aeducan: ”What’s that behind your back?”

“What’s that behind your back?” Alistair asked as he tried poking his head over her shoulder. 

“No peeking!” Reilan jumped back with a scowl. By the Stone, why were humans all so forsakenly tall? She tightened her hand around the gift and cleared her throat. “Now close your eyes. You won’t get the present if you try to sneak a look again.” 

Alistair puffed out his cheeks but did as he was told. 

She huffed slightly, her face starting to warm as she relaxed her arms. “Hold out your hand.” Pressing the rock into his fingers, she retreated a step. “Fine. You have your present now.” 

He blinked at the stone in his hand. “A rune?” 

“A Paragon one: Silverite. For your armor. You’re always getting yourself knocked around, I thought… well—” She crossed her arms, cheeks hot enough to roast a nug. “If you don’t like it then give it back.” 

“No!” He held it close to his chest. “Absolutely never.” His thumb traced the pattern in the stone and he grinned. “I love it, Reilan. Thank you.” 

“Yes, well, I—” She blinked at the soft brush of his lips along the corner of her mouth. “J-just don’t lose it.” 

“I won’t,” he promised with another kiss on her cheek. “Not ever.” 


	18. Alistair/Warden (friendship): “I’m sorry, Alistair. It had to be done.” (fluff/humor)

“I’m sorry, Alistair. It had to be done.” 

“I hate you.” 

“I know.” She grinned. “But you look so pretty.” 

“This isn’t—I’m not!” Alistair scowled when he crossed his arms. Lace and fluff followed his every movement with the gesture. 

“Come on now,” she said. “You promised that you’d dance the remigold too.” 

“That was  _ages_  again, and I didn’t hardly mean it  _then_!”

Zevran tsked softly. “Do all Grey Wardens go back on their word so easily?” 

“I’m not…” Alistair pouted. His blush matched the color of the dress he wore. “You are all mean and evil and I hate you.” 

“Yes, yes,” Leliana said with a grin as she tuned her lute. “Now, are you ready?” 


	19. Alistair/Cousland: “Her coming home was a blessing from the Maker.” Or some such nonsense.

“‘ _Her coming home was a blessing from the Maker.’_ Or some such nonsense. That’s what people expect to hear in these kinds of things, at any rate.” Aeryn glanced to her shoulder where her husband was currently resting his chin. “That sounds right, doesn’t it?” 

“It sounds absolutely perfect, my love.” Alistair beamed out at her before he resumed the soft path of kisses along her neck. His arms pulled her closer against his chest. She grinned under the loving attentions. He’d hardly let go of her since she’d stepped through the door; not that she blamed him. Two years was a lot to make up for. 

“You’d say that about anything I came up with.” 

“Only because everything that comes out of that mind of yours  _is_  perfect.” He laughed when she nudged him in the side. 

“I’m trying to be serious. Teagan’s face is going to crack with that frown of his if we don’t finish this soon.” 

Alistair huffed; his breath tickled her neck. “Who says I’m  _not_  being serious?” Aeryn raised an eyebrow at him and he smirked. “All right. I’ll try harder.” 

“Promise?” 

“No.” He kissed her earlobe. Scraping the skin with his teeth sent a shiver down her spine. 

“ _Alistair_.” 

“Yes, my love?” 

She turned in his arms, grinning as she ran a hand through his hair. “Bed or couch?” 


	20. Alistair/Cousland: “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m so proud of you.” Aeryn nuzzled in closer to Alistair’s neck. She kissed the hot skin there, smiling when he gave a soft sigh. 

“Of me?” he asked. “For what?” 

“Everything. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I never would’ve made it out of the Korcari wilds if you hadn’t been there.” 

He chuckled even as he ran his fingers down her back. “Somehow, my dearest, I doubt that very much.” 

“I mean it.” She pressed in closer, shifting until she was on top of him. “You’ve never given yourself enough credit for what you’ve done. You may have let me lead but I’ve always looked to you for guidance. You’re stronger than you think, Alistair. You have such a good heart; I’ve never known a better man than you.” 

“I…” His cheeks turned red as he stared at her. “Thank you.” 

“Do you actually believe me?” She shook her head at his sheepish smile. Aeryn laid herself on top of him, trailing kisses along his chest like she had been not half an hour before. “Then I guess I’m just going to have to convince you, aren’t I?” 


	21. Alistair/Cousland: “I don’t think the dog likes my jokes.” (fluff)

“I don’t think the dog likes my jokes.” 

Aeryn clamped her lips to keep from laughing at Alistair’s pained expression. 

“In fact,” he said, “I don’t think the dog likes me at all.” 

“Oh, that’s not true.” She pulled her mabari closer, scratching along his neck. “I’m sure he loves you as much as I do. Well… except for the times you call him Barkspawn.” 

“But that’s the perfect name!” Alistair’s eyes narrowed at the dog’s growl. “I bet he’s just jealous that he has to share you with me.” 

She smirked. “Do you get jealous of  _him_?” 

“Of course I do,” Alistair said. “He grew up with you, goes with you everywhere, sleeps in your tent.” 

“So you want to sleep in my tent?” 

“I, u-uh—” His cheeks burned and her lips twitched with the urge to smile, to tease him to an even darker shade. “I didn’t mean it like that. Well, I… I  _do_ kind of mean it like that but not like  _that_. If you know what I mean.” 

“I’m trying to.” 

Alistair groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Can I start over?” 

“I’m afraid not.” She leaned over and placed kisses on his cheek until he finally peeked out at her from between his fingers. She kissed the tip of his nose, smirking when she half-sang, “You want to sleep in my tent with me.” 

“I—Maker’s breath. Good night, Aeryn!” He scrambled to his feet, the blush burning all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“Already? Should I wear a silky shift or would you prefer it if I wore nothing at all?” 

“Good night, Aeryn!” he all but screamed as he closed the flap of his tent. 

She grinned across the campfire, imagining the deep red of his face. When her mabari let out a line whine, she kissed the top of his head. “Enjoy the attention while you can; it’s not always going to be a joke.” She turned to his tent and bit her lip. At least, she hoped it wouldn’t. 


	22. Alistair/Cousland: He prayed that it would be enough. (fluff)

He prayed that it would be enough. Alistair rubbed his sweaty palms along his breeches, his heart pounding at a nearly painful pace. 

“Are you all right?” Aeryn asked across the dinner table. 

“Y-yes! I’m fine. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact.” He glanced to Oghren and Wynne and the others before clearing his throat. “Might we, uh, step outside for a moment? Just the two of us?” 

She narrowed her eyes and he felt his heart rise into his chest. Had she seen through him already? 

“You never leave while there’s still food on the table.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on his forehead. “Maker, you’re burning up.” 

He caught her hand when she started to walk away. “It’s not what you think.” Heat rose in his face when she turned to him. “Could we please go outside? Just for a few minutes?” 

“…if you’re sure you’re all right.” 

“I am, I-I mean,” He swallowed hard, nearly knocking the table over when he stood. “I hope I am. That is…” He took her hand, his pulse beating in his ears as he half-dragged her out of the inn. 

“Alistair, what— _what are you doing?_ ” 

“I guess that’s up to you.” He managed a weak laugh as he dropped to one knee in front of her. His hands trembled as he reached for the ring he’d bought in Denerim. It was simple silver with a modest stone but it was the best he could do. He held it tight and prayed that it would be enough. “Aeryn, I—” 

“Yes.” 

He blinked. “I haven’t asked yet.” 

“I want to marry you,” she said. 

“Yes, but  _I’m_  the one who’s supposed to ask.” 

“So you don’t want to marry me?” 

“Of course I do!” 

“Then put the ring on and kiss me already.” 

Alistair laughed as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He laughed when she threw her arms around his neck, her lips eager and smiling. And he laughed when he fell back, pulling her on top of him as he lost himself inside her kiss. 


	23. King!Alistair/Queen!Cousland: He woke up, alone and cold, missing the warmth of his queen. (angst)

He woke up, alone and cold, missing the warmth of his queen. His hand searched out the blankets that she had been occupying when he’d closed his eyes. “Aeryn?” He rubbed his eyes as he sat up in their bed. “Aeryn, are you there?” 

Alistair shivered at the draft that came in through the balcony. Slipping on his robe, he trudged over to the open doors. His wife stood outside, her hands braced against the balcony. He came up from behind and wrapped his arms about her waist, trailing kisses along her shoulders. “What’s wrong, my dearest?” 

“I have to go.” 

“W-what?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I think I heard wrong.” 

She turned in his arms. Streaks marked the path were tears had fallen and dried. “The Calling is already getting louder. If we want to stay together, I have to go. I have to find a way to cure it.” 

“There is no cure!” He scoffed as anger swelled inside him. “Don’t you think that the Grey Wardens would’ve found it by now if it existed?” 

“Those same Grey Wardens thought that a person would have to die to stop an Archdemon, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” 

“That’s not—”

“The same? Of course it is. You  _know_ it is. There’s still so much out there waiting to be discovered. What if I could find it, Alistair? What if we could grow old and have children and go to sleep without the nightmares and ancient whispers in our heads. Don’t you want that?” 

“… not if it means risking you.” He pulled her into a kiss when she started to argue again. He held her tight, heart already aching at the thought of letting her go. “What if you don’t come back at all? What if I lose you for good? I… I can’t do that, Aeryn.” 

“You won’t lose me,” she murmured as she placed feather-light kisses on his face. “I swear it, Alistair. You’ll never lose me.” 


	24. Varric/Cassandra: “Don’t look at me, It wasn’t my idea.” (fluff)

“Don’t look at me, It wasn’t  _my_  idea.” 

“Why do I not believe you?” 

“I don’t know, Seeker. I’ve been nothing but an upstanding citizen since I joined this Inquisition of yours.” 

“For the last time,” Cassandra sighed, “It is not  _my_ Inquisition.” 

“Of course. You merely recruited the Commander, served with the Spymaster, declared the Inquisition from the start, gave power to the Inquisitor when you could’ve taken—”

“What is your point, Varric?” 

“No point, Seeker. Just making idle conversation to pass the time.” Varric smirked when the woman began to pace in the little cave. The cave they were both currently stuck inside. Alone. “I can’t change what happened. Even  _if_ I wanted to.” 

“So you admit it,” she said. “You admit that you’re enjoying this!” 

“Trapped alone with a woman as beautiful as yourself? Who wouldn’t?” 

Cassandra scowled at him. “That line may have worked with the Duke in your novel, but it won’t work on  _me_.”

“Of course it won’t,” he said. 

“I mean it, Varric.” 

“I’m sure you do… Cassandra.” 

She paused mid-step. “Don’t call me that.” 

“It’s your name, isn’t it? The others call you by your name all the time. Or is there a particular reason why you don’t want  _me_ to say your name?” 

“… don’t be ridiculous.” 

He grinned at the blush on her cheeks but let the matter drop. “All right then,  _Seeker_. What would you like to talk about?” He patted the rock beside him. “More about the Champion, perhaps? Something that wasn’t in the book?” 

“Tell me…” Cassandra paused, a slight glare to her eyes. “Tell me about  _your_ adventures, Varric.” 

“Me? I lived in Kirkwall during the rebellion, fought alongside the Champion and you want to know about little old  _me?_ ” 

“Yes.” 

Varric blinked at her earnest expression. “All right then, Seeker.” He leaned back, keeping his eyes on her. “Let’s start at the beginning with my brother Bartrand and his crazy scheme to get into the Deep Roads…” 


	25. Varric/Fem!Hawke: “Varric!”

“Varric!” Clara ran across the battlements, arms tightening around the dwarf in a tight embrace before she picked him up. 

“Easy, Hawke!” Varric scowled at her as his legs dangled in the air. “You’re going to crumple my clothes if you keep that up.” 

“Oh? Not worried about what it’ll do your chest hair then?” She winked when she set him down. Keeping a hand on his shoulder, she couldn’t help but beam at him. It’d been so long since she’d last seen his grinning face. 

Varric brushed the front of his chest. “You know as well as I do that it would take a lot more than a rough hug to harm this perfection.” He winked and she laughed. 

“Andraste’s perky tits, but I’ve missed you.” Cupping his cheeks, she leaned in and smacked her lips to his forehead. “You look good; better than you were last time I saw you. You must like this Inquisition more than you’ve been letting on.” 

“It’s not the worst thing in the world. It’s lacking a decent pub though.” 

Clara leaned onto his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “Are you honestly telling me that you don’t have some bottles tucked around somewhere?” 

“Well, there  _might_ be an old cellar I found stacked full of fine vintages. Covered in dust so you know it hasn’t been touched. You wouldn’t be interested in joining me down there, would you?” 

“Drinking fine wine?” She groaned. “It’s  _such_ a burden but I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” 

"Don’t forget the cheese this time, Hawke.” 

“Me? Forget something? Perish the thought!” 


	26. M!Hawke/F!Inquisitor: “Have you heard the rumors running amuck amongst the servants about the Champion of Kirkwall and the Herald of Andraste?” (fluff)

“Have you heard the rumors running amuck amongst the servants about the Champion of Kirkwall and the Herald of Andraste?” Garrett asked with a smirk. 

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she leaned against the battlements. “I don’t even think they classify as ‘rumors’ anymore. I’ve been asked no fewer than three times about whether or not you’re a good a lover as Varric book describes you. Josephine is all but planning our wedding colors.” 

“Red, I hope?” 

“Of course.” 

He laughed and moved closer to her side. “So, Herald, just how good a lover did you say I was? I’m asking for Varric’s sake of course. He’ll want to make sure that his book lines up with whatever you said.” 

“I wouldn’t know,  _Champion_. Unlike others, I don’t kiss and tell. Or, you know, write novels on it.” 

Garrett’s body shook with his laughter. “Entirely Varric’s idea, I assure you.” He took another step closer. His shoulder brushed against hers. “We  _could_ find out, you know. Just how good a lover I am; in that big, empty bed of yours.” 

“And how do you know it’s empty?” 

“You wouldn’t keep coming to see me if you had someone waiting for you.” 

“You’re very sure of yourself.” 

He took another step until he faced her directly; he shifted close enough to feel her breath on his skin. His eyes drifted to her lips. “Yes, I am.” 

Evelyn pressed a finger to his lips when he leaned in to kiss her. “Perhaps next time, Hawke.” 

“Is that a promise, Lady Trevelyan?” He flicked his tongue across the fingertip and smirked at her light shiver. 

“A possibility,” she said. “Nothing more.” 

Garrett watched as she started to walk away, appreciating the sway of her hips. “Then perhaps you’ll join me for a drink later.” 

“Oh?” She glanced over her shoulder. 

“A toast.” He raised his hand as though holding up a glass. “To possibilities.” 


	27. Blackwall/Inquisitor: When the Inquisitor approached Blackwall after his judgement she did not know whether to kiss him or to slap him. (fluffy angst)

When the Inquisitor approached Blackwall after his judgement she did not know whether to kiss him or to slap him. He stood there, carving his griffon as though nothing had changed, as though he hadn’t turned into another person with his confession. She tightened her hands. She’d forgiven him in judgement, asked to start over, but… was that really possible? 

“Tho—Blackwall?” 

He paused and set down his tools. “I’m glad you came by.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yes.” He caught up to her side in a single stride. He reached to take her hands but stopped short. “I realize that there are a lot of questions you must have, a lot of anger for you to work through. So, let me have it.” He straightened his back, jaw setting in determination. 

Balling her hand into a fist, she brought it to his chest. She softened the strike at the last moment, her fingers loosening to rest above his heart. “You should’ve told me sooner.” 

“I know.” 

“I could’ve helped you.” 

“I know,” his voice broke. 

“I don’t want there to be any more lies between us.” 

“There won’t be,” he promised. “I’ll never lie to you again.” 

She thumped her hand on his chest, scowling up at him. “What are you waiting for?” 

“My lady?” 

“Kiss me!” 

Blackwall’s chest rumbled when he laughed. Cupping her chin in his fingers, he pressed in for a kiss, his lips soft and warm, his beard ticklish in the best of ways. “No more lies,” he murmured into their kiss. “Not ever.” 


	28. Garrus/Cassandra: “The monsters look different here.” (general)

“The monsters look different here. Shepard, I don’t know if you’re hearing any of this, but _don’t touch that mirror._ I don’t know how, but that thing is what brought me here.” Garrus scowled at the flashing button that said his message was still struggling to be sent. He cursed and saved it to his omni-tool before pressing further into the ruins, leaving the bodies in a pile behind him. 

Checking his sidearm, he counted his thermal clips. Only a handful left.  _Damn_. 

Garrus reached around to the front of his rifle, flicking on the light. 

“ _What was that?_ ” 

He cursed again at the voices, fingers fumbling to extinguish the light. 

“ _Did either of you see that?_ ” 

“ _Veilfire?_ ” 

“ _No. It usually has more of a glow, wouldn’t you say, Seeker?_ ” 

“ _Lost. Separated, scared, searching for a way out but… there is none. He’s trapped here. Trapped where he doesn’t know anything apart from the weapons in his hands._ ” 

“Whoever you are,” the woman’s voice was closing in on his position, “Come out now.” 

Garrus pressed the butt of his rifle to his shoulder, aiming in the dark. He fired at the faint glint of metal against the dark. He ran forward at the sound of a curse, switching out for his sidearm. He pressed it to the forehead of the black-haired woman. 

A series of arrows bounced off his kinetic shield and fell uselessly to the ground. 

“Hold your fire, Varric!” the woman ordered. “If he wanted to kill me, I suspect he would’ve done so already.” 

Garrus glanced between the small group, eyes narrowing. “Where…” he frowned as he tried to mimic the English words so foreign on his tongue. “Were am I?” 

“This is part of the Storm Coast.” Her eyes narrowed. “There was a woman with us. She had a hand that glowed. Did you do anything to her?” 

Garrus shook his head and retreated a step. 

“They switched places.” The voice came from under a wide brim hat. “He came here and she… she was sent very far away.” 

The woman turned to him. “Are you certain, Cole?” 

The hat wobbled with a nod. “Years ago, they came here. They came and they killed and infected and poisoned and tore away. Their fault, their hand, their eluvian… They’ve gone by many names but  _he_ knows them as Reapers.” 


	29. Solas/Lavellan: “I’ve come to burn your kingdom down.” (angst?)

“ _I’ve come to burn your kingdom down._ ”

“Fen’Harel did not—he would never have said such a thing. Ever.” 

She blinked at the hardness of his tone. “It’s a  _children’s_  story, Solas.” 

“I am aware of that, vhenan. But stories have power and the telling of them only makes them stronger. I’m sure your Keeper must have expressed that sentiment at one time or another.” 

“You’re really bothered by it, aren’t you.” She slipped off from her perch on his desk and wrapped a hand around his elbow. She tilted his face down to hers when he tried to turn away. “Tell me.” 

“I simply…” He trailed off before his shoulders bent in with a sigh. He leaned into her touch, eyes closing for a moment. “Stories like those—I imagine how difficult it would be to hear them. To hear yourself named a monster that children are taught to fear in the night.” 

She would’ve laughed if his expression weren’t so serious. “But you don’t even believe in the Creators. How can a person who doesn’t exist be hurt by bedtime stories?” 

“I am not…” Solas stared at her, the hard lines of his face pulling together before they disappeared with a heavy sigh. “You are right, vhenan. Please, continue your story. I shall not interrupt again.” 


	30. Leliana/F!Surana: “Well that’s going to be hard to explain.” (fluff)

“Well that’s going to be hard to explain.” Katriel flushed as she stared up at the large hole she’d made in Leliana’s tent. The fabric around the edges continue to smolder from the fireball she’d unleashed. 

Nuzzling up against the mage’s neck, Leliana laughed. “I rather like it. It gives us a lovely view of the stars, don’t you think?” 

Katriel sighed when Leliana started to kiss along her jaw. “I—I suppose that’s true…” Her eyes fluttered shut and her toes began to curl in anticipation. “Are you trying to make it happen again?” 

The chuckle against the nape of Katriel’s neck made her shiver. “It would be a shame to only have the one hole. It makes things so uneven.” 

Katriel’s breath caught when the woman’s kisses dropped lower. “There’s not going to be—” She gasped. “—much of a tent left if you… k-keep that up.” 

A smirk spread over Leliana’s face. “My dear Warden, that’s  _exactly_  what I’m counting on.” 


	31. Zevran/Warden: "I don't like sex." (fluff)

“I don’t like sex.” 

“What?” Zevran blinked, his hand halfway up her thigh. “Truly? Not at all?” 

“I…” Her face burned and she turned away from his intense gaze. “I—I like other stuff. Kissing and holding hands, but this um…” She shifted so that his hand fell from her skin. She should’ve told him sooner but the lavish attention had been such a nice change. “Even the idea of it—” She shook her head when words failed to convey what she meant. 

“I see.” 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, tucking hair behind her ear. Her knees trembled as she started to leave the tent. 

Zevran pulled her back. “My dearest Warden, where do you think you’re going to so early?” He was smiling when he kissed her cheek. “Did you not promise that we could have some time together?” 

“Yes, but—but I don’t want…” 

“That is of little consequence.” He squeezed her close and kissed her cheek again. “You said you liked this part, no? Then this is all we shall do.” 

She frowned at his grin. “It really doesn’t bother you?” 

“Why should it? My own past and uh… preferences have never bothered you.” 

She sighed when he kissed her next, eyes closing at the touch of his warm lips. 

Zevran pulled the blanket around them, his kisses trailing along her cheeks as he murmured, “I will never ask for more than you are willing to give.” 


End file.
